


Auxilium

by SpaceIdiot



Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: But things don’t go exactly as planned, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, bright is a sweetheart, cause I’m a sucker for happy endings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 16:50:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21395482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceIdiot/pseuds/SpaceIdiot
Summary: Bright saves a prostitute from near death, and takes it onto himself to see that she is taken care of.
Relationships: Reginald Bright & Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 5





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> The idea came from a dream, and I figured, why not write it down?

What Bright had seen that night, he didn’t think he would ever be able to get out of his head. The poor girl, no older than twenty, if even that, laying face down in a pool of her own blood. She’d been stark naked, and the cuts which had been inflicted all over her body were plain to see. Despite the copious amounts of alcohol in her system, she’d been conscience the whole time. At least, he hoped, it dulled the pain. Her wrists had been tied above her head. But her legs were free. Whoever had done this had held her legs down - or rather, apart. Debryn confirmed almost without hesitation that bloodlust was not the only form of lust the perpetrator suffered from. They’d all been shocked when she showed signs of life. How anyone could survive that, they didn’t know.  
Bright sat in the hall, his face in his hands. His sleeve and cheek were stained with blood, from where he had helped her up, and wrapped a blanket over her quivering frame. She caught her eye, and for a moment, they looked at each other. He’d never seen eyes so young hold so much pain. The world was not fair. But of course he had experienced that particular truth already, too many times to count.  
“Chief Superintendent,” came a gentle voice. It was Debryn. He’d been there when they rushed her to the hospital.  
Bright looked up. “Any news?”  
“She’ll make it,” he said.  
“Oh thank God,” Bright breathed. He wasn’t quite sure why he cared so much, but he did.  
“Her physical scars at least will heal, eventually, but it’s unlikely she will be welcomed back to her current occupation, considering.”  
Bright cocked his head. “Her current - profession?” he asked.  
“Oh you don’t know?” Debryn said, legitimately surprised. “She’s a prostitute.”  
Bright felt sick. “But she’s so young.”  
“They start them early these days,” Debryn said, matter-of-factly.  
Bright wasn’t sure he liked the tone.  
“It’s lucky you found her when you did, Sir, or she may not have made it.”  
Bright swallowed. “I thought she was dead,” he admitted.  
“It’s good you called it in so quickly though,” Debryn smiled slightly. “If you don’t mind me asking, Sir, you really didn’t know she was a prostitute?”  
Bright furrowed his brows. “No. Why should I?”  
“Sir you found her in a brothel,” Debryn said, straightforward. “You didn’t realize?”  
“I’d been out, and had a bit too much to drink,” Bright said indignantly, “So I was walking home instead of driving. I heard shouting and screaming, and ran in to find her laying there. That’s what I said in my testimony.”  
“I haven’t read it,” Debryn said quickly, “I didn’t mean to imply-”  
“No one else thinks -” Bright was red. He wasn’t sure if was from embarrassment or anger.  
“Oh I’m sure not,” Debryn assured. “And even if you had been there for…” he cut off. “Well, we all have our coping mechanisms. As long as no one is getting hurt.”  
“Well someone did get hurt,” Bright hissed.  
Debryn wished he’d never said anything at all. He’d tried not to offend, and he’d ended up doing the exact opposite. “I really meant no offence, Sir,” he said. “I didn’t mean to imply anything.”  
Bright shook his head. “I know,” he said. “I’m sorry I snapped. It’s been a difficult night.”  
“Of course,” Debryn nodded. “You should probably go home. It’s nearly sunrise.”  
“I want to be sure she’s alright,” Bright said. “I think I’ll stay until she wakes up.”  
“If you’d rather.”  
“Goodnight, Doctor.”  
“Goodnight, Sir.”  
Bright sat back down. Well this evening had not gone as he had planned at all. He felt exhausted. His head ached. He wasn’t sure if it was from the gin or from what had happened after the gin. Most likely both. He leaned his head back against the wall.  
The next thing he knew, he was blinking at a ray of sunlight coming across his face from a window. He leaned forward, his hangover only made worse by spending what was left of the night on a hard bench. He ran his hand over his hair, realizing he was both hungry and thirsty. A nurse came bustling out of the patient’s room.  
“Excuse me,” he said quickly. “Would it be possible for me to go in to see her?”  
“Family?”  
“Police,” he said. “I’m the one who found her.”  
“Well…” the nurse didn’t seem sure. “As long as you are gentle with her. She’s been through enough.”  
“Of course,” he replied.  
She nodded. He stood and made his way inside. She was laying in her bed, her skin almost covered by bandages, her gold hair falling around her face.  
“Who are you?” She asked hoarsely.  
“My names Bright,” he said gently. “I’m the one who found you.”  
She looked him up and down. “Thank you,” she said. “The nurse said a few minutes longer and I might not’ve made it.”  
Bright walked over and patted her hand. “No need to think about that,” he said. “I’ll keep you safe now. You have no need to go back to that life.”  
He wasn’t sure why he’d made it so personal. But he had. There was something about this poor helpless girl… he’d always had a strong desire to help things that were helpless. Perhaps that’s why he joined the police force.  
She looked up at him, her light eyes searching his face. “You’ll take care of me?” she asked.  
“Of course,” he said, hardly even realizing what he was saying. “I’ll take care of you.”  
She hesitated, then smiled. “Thank you,” she said.  
“My pleasure


	2. 2

Bright came and visited her daily while she was in the hospital healing. He would bring her fruit, things to read, and once he even brought flowers. They would chat whenever he came. He found out that she liked opera, mystery novels, cats, and the color pink. She preferred coffee to tea, was allergic to strawberries, and loved expensive nightwear. She would watch him closely when he told her stories of being in India, gasping or laughing at all the appropriate moments. She didn’t think she’d ever met anyone quite like him before. She appreciated his gentleness, despite his profession, which she had generally had quite a bit of distaste for and fear of. And he appreciated her vibrency, despite everything she’d been through. She didn’t talk much about her work, or past, at all. Sometimes she would refer to her little brother, but it didn’t appear that she had seen him in a very long time. Bright told her about his daughter. The pony he’d bought her. The games they would play. He told her about how he lost her, and about how he lost his wife. She would hold his hand between hers.  
“You are such a gentle person,” she said.  
He flushed. “Oh, I don’t know.”  
“I do,” she said. “I’ve never met someone like you. You are good.”  
“No one is inherently good or evil,” he said. “It’s the content of one’s character that matters.”  
She looked down. “I don’t suppose the content of my character is very good.”  
“Oh no,” he protested. “I think that the content of your character is very good. You cannot blame yourself for what others have done to you.”  
She blinked away a tear.  
He smiled.  
“Ah, good evening, Mr. Bright,” said the nurse as she came into the room.  
He sat back, his hand slipping away from hers. “Hello, Nurse.”  
“I thought I would tell you and Maria together that we’re discharging her tomorrow.”  
Bright looked pleased, but Maria frowned.  
“What’s wrong,” he asked, noticing that she seemed less than excited.  
“I don’t have anywhere to go,” she said. “And I have no money, and my old job… well they won’t take me back looking like this.”  
“Oh,” he blinked, “Well, my house is empty. There’s plenty of room for you to stay.”  
The nurse raised her eyebrows.  
“Until we can get you back on your feet,” he added quickly.  
“You really want me to come live with you?” she said.  
“Why not?”  
“You’re not ashamed of me?”  
“Of course not!”  
She hesitated.  
“You’ll come?” he said. “I want you to be safe.”  
“Okay, I’ll come.”  
He breathed in, feeling his chest fill up. “Oh, good.”


	3. 3

Bright showed her into his house and closed the door behind them. Nearly everything she’d had before had belonged to the brothel, but they’d managed to gather a few things for her when she’d gone to the hospital. He thought that they’d have to get her some decent clothes before too long. For now he just wanted to make her feel safe. He took her upstairs and showed her to the guest room.  
“There should be a dressing gown in the wardrobe,” he said. “Feel free to use it.”  
“I’d like to get changed,” she said, “Into something more comfortable.”  
He did not notice the look in her eye that may have warned him of what was to come. He was far too much of a gentleman for that. He’d barely even noticed when his wife was coming on to him. It had been quite a point of contention.  
“I’ll pour us a drink while you change,” he said. “You are of age?” he added, realizing he had no idea how old she actually was.  
“Oh yes,” she nodded, smiling. “You’ve no need to be afraid of that.”  
He smiled, nodded, and turned and went downstairs.  
She smiled after him, taking his offer of a drink as a sign of consent to her suggestion.  
He sat on the sofa, waiting for her, a tumbler of brandy in his hand, and another sitting on the side table.  
“Mr. Bright,” she called from the base of the steps, just out of his sight. “Are you ready?”  
“Er, yes,” he said, wondering why she was asking this. It only took a moment, though, for him to asses the situation, when she came around the corner wearing a black lace negligee.  
“Oh, Marie,” he said, sweat rising up on the back of his neck. “I think that you misunderstood -” but he didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. She walked towards him, taking his cup out of his hand and sitting it on the side table. He was so stunned he hardly knew what to do or say. She put her hands on his thighs, slowly pushing his legs apar, and then straddled him.  
“Dear God,” he gasped, trying to put up his hands to stop her.  
She grabbed his wrists and pushed his hands back.  
“What are you doing?” he gasped.  
“Call this my little thank you present,” she hummed.  
She bent to kiss his neck, and he’d had enough. In a panic, he stood up suddenly, sending her backwards onto the floor. She stared at him, wide eyed.  
“What - what?” she blinked in confusion. “It’s because of my scars, isn’t it?”  
“Oh darling,” he said, “You poor thing, no, no!”  
He got on his knees in front of her, taking her hands.  
“I thought this was what you wanted,” she said, tears rising in her eyes.  
“No, Maria,” he said gently. “I’m sorry I gave you the wrong impression.”  
“Then why - why did you want me here?”  
His heart ached. Did she really think she was no more than an object of sexual desire? He couldn’t even imagine what had happened to her to make her feel that way. He reached out his hand and put it on the side of her face.  
“I wanted you here because I’ve come to care for you, like a daughter. You were hurt. You needed help. And I wanted to help you.”  
She looked at him, unable to understand. “You didn’t want me here as your lover?”  
He shook his head. “You’re a beautiful girl, yes,” he said, “But I see you as more. You’re a human being, with talents and interests and a soul.”  
“But I have to say thank you,” she said, feeling desperate. “I have to show you how thankful I am for what I did.”  
“And you think sex is the only way to do it?” he shook his head. “Oh Maria, you are worth so much more than that.”  
She started crying. “I don’t understand.”  
He brushed away a tear that fell down her cheek. “Come here,” he said, “Come sit on the sofa.”  
He helped her up from the floor, and they sat opposite each other.  
“I don’t know everything that happened to you,” he said, “But from now on, you never, ever have to feel obligated to give anyone anything. Not respect, not your heart, not your care, and especially not sex. You are your own master now, and you are safe in my care, for as long as you choose to stay. You owe me nothing. Others opinions of you or desire for you does not define your worth, nor does anything you’ve done in the past. You are valuable in and of yourself, and not because of anything you can give others or do for them. You owe no one anything, but yourself. You owe yourself love, care, and respect. Believe me,” he added, “I know it is hard to love yourself, care for yourself, and respect yourself, especially if you feel your value has been taken from you. But it hasn’t. No one can take that. Not ever. You remember that.”  
She was sobbing by now, and she leaned forward, reaching out for him.  
“Please hug me,” she said. And he did. He wrapped his arms around her, stroking her hair and trying to quiet her sobs. “No one has ever said anything like that to me before,” she said.  
“Well it’s about time someone did,” he said, pulling her back, his hands on her shoulders, looking her in the eyes. “Promise me you’ll try, try to put value on yourself and respect yourself.”  
She nodded. “I’ll try.”  
“That’s all I can ask. Now,” he said, “Let’s get you something warmer to wear and I’ll make us some dinner.”  
He found her a dressing gown and some slippers, and she sat at the kitchen table as he made them dinner. Over the next days and weeks, he would take her shopping for more suitable clothes, paying for them in exchange for her doing some simple household chores. They had decided together that what he was doing for her was not charity. She wanted to learn a form of responsibility she’d never been taught before. She got along very well, and it wasn’t long until she got her own job. Several months later, they found a flat for her to live in on her own. She got a cat, two houseplants, and had several of her favorite opera records and a very nice record player. The two of them would still see each other often, and would trade off whose house they would go to for dinner. Two years after it all happened, Maria got married. He was a remarkably nice young student from South Africa, who had been taking seminary classes when they’d met. He’d given that up and was now training to become a teacher of seminary classes instead. They had two boys, for which Bright became their godfather. He’d often spend holidays with them, especially Christmas, until they decided to move back to South Africa. They still kept in contact, and every Christmas he would send presents to his Godsons. Now and then Thursday or Debryn would ask how she was doing, and much to his continued pleasure, he was always able to say, “She’s doing very well.”


End file.
